When I say I cried at the Arcade Fire show I mean my eyes welled up, not that I was bawling like a baby. It was more that thing where you're at a movie, and something on screen just hits right at your soft inner core without warning, and suddenly your cheek feels a trickle and there's nothing you can do about it because your conscious mind has no control over a moment like that. It was sort of like that.
Now that we have that cleared up, let's move on.
Except I really don't have anything to move on about, I guess. SPOLIERS FOLLOW, SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN LAST NIGHT'SE EPISODE OF 24 YET. Last night's 24 finale was satisfying enough, although I kept expecting Jack to get whacked up until the final seconds since the producers promised one final huge twist in an episode that seemed particularly lacking in twists. And I'm totally not buying that Jack's dad is dead, since Jack left him so conveniently right next to a small motor boat when he walked away.
I guess that's it for today. I got my eyes dilated last night for an eye exam, and afterwards I wandered around looking like some acid casualty with a Manga stare. The really unpleasant side-effect of the procedure is that while your vision at large is unaffected, your ability to focus on words is lost. So a magazine looks like a magazine, with crisp and clear pictures, and fuzzy lines where sentences used to be. Anyway, that's sort of what this week has felt like so far; everything is as it should be, but I'm finding it a little hard to focus.Let's see if I can't sharpen things up today.
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